The train hissed to a stop, and Maria stepped out onto the platform, taking a deep breath of the crisp Tyrolean air. It filled her lungs, a stark contrast to the thick, smoky atmosphere of Vienna. The sharp scent of pine mingled with the cool mountain breeze, instantly soothing her frayed nerves. Adjusting the strap of her bag, she glanced at the surrounding mountains, their peaks still dusted with snow despite the season, and felt a flicker of peace she hadn't known in weeks.
Tyrol had always been a place of refuge for her, a place of clarity. Though she had no blood family left to visit, there was one person she longed to see—a woman who had once been like a mother to her, who had guided her in her faith when she needed it most. Maria smiled to herself at the thought of surprising her, picturing the look of delight on Frau Nina's face.
The walk from the station to the modest home was one Maria knew well, the path lined with wildflowers she remembered from her childhood summers. When she reached the little house, with its familiar red shutters and a garden blooming with sunflowers, she didn't bother to knock. This had been her sanctuary too once, and its door had always been open to her.
Maria stepped inside, her footsteps light on the polished wood floors. The faint hum of sewing reached her ears, accompanied by a soft, cheerful whistling. She followed the sound to the sewing room, her heart warming at how little had changed.
Standing at the door, she knocked gently. "Frau Nina."
The older woman paused, her hands stilling on the fabric she was stitching. Turning toward the door, her eyes widened in surprise. The sunlight caught the silver streaks in her hair, but her face lit up with youthful joy. "Maria! Is it really you?"
Maria stepped inside, her smile wide and genuine. "Yes, it's me. I couldn't stay away."
Nina rose swiftly from her seat, her arms outstretched as she enveloped Maria in a warm, maternal hug. "My little girl," she said, her voice thick with emotion, "you have no idea how much I've missed you." She pulled back just enough to look up at Maria's face, a wry smile breaking through her sentimentality. "Though I suppose I can't call you little anymore. You've grown into such a fine young woman."
Maria chuckled softly, but the warmth in Nina's words made her throat tighten. She hadn't realized how much she needed this moment until now.
Suddenly, Nina took hold of Maria's elbow, her expression bright with curiosity. "I heard about you on the radio this morning," she said, her voice carrying a touch of pride. "They said you were supposed to be at the city council with the Alliance, talking about the issues in Stuwerviertel. What are you doing here, then?"
Maria shifted uneasily, her smile faltering. "Yes, well...that's true. But instead of going, I decided to come and see you." Her voice was light, almost casual, but it was clear she was avoiding saying more.
Nina frowned slightly, searching Maria's face. "Is everything alright?"
Maria hesitated. She hadn't told anyone—not the sisters, not even Mother Superior—about how suffocating the past few weeks had been. About how desperately she needed to be away from Vienna, from the Alliance, from Stuwerviertel, and especially from Georg. Finally, she sighed and met Nina's concerned gaze.
"I just needed...a little space," Maria admitted, her voice low but steady.
Nina's face softened, and she patted Maria's arm reassuringly. "Well, you're here now, and I'm glad for it. But from what I've heard on the radio, it seems you've been fighting the devil himself down there," she said, a hint of teasing in her tone. "And winning, too. You should be proud."
Maria shook her head, a rueful smile on her lips. "It doesn't feel that way. I came back because I need strength, Nina. I need to pray, to prepare myself. There's going to be another showdown, and it will be the last one. I have to face him again."
Nina's brow furrowed, but then she smiled with quiet confidence. "You'll do what's right, Maria. You always have. And remember, God's power is greater than any force that stands against you. The devil cannot win where faith prevails."
Maria nodded slowly, letting Nina's words sink in. She looked over at the small wooden cross hanging above the sewing table, its simplicity a stark reminder of where she sought her strength.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Nina's face shifted from joy to mild concern as she suddenly remembered something. She stepped toward her worktable, retrieving a small envelope from its surface. "No wonder why this was sent here. Maria," she said, handing it to her, "this telegram arrived for you just before you got here."
Maria hesitated, her fingers brushing against the crinkled edges of the envelope. She glanced at Nina, whose watchful eyes seemed to be trying to decode the letter before it was even opened. With a sigh, Maria unfolded the telegram and began reading.
The words leapt off the page, but one particular paragraph seized her attention:
"Our victory depends on your being here. I've rescheduled the meeting with the councilors in two days."
Her heart sank. Frau Lulu. Of course.
Maria had agreed, hesitantly, to lead the Alliance in their fight against Stuwerviertel. She had been swayed by their impassioned speeches and promises of building a "good and God-fearing community." Yet, in hindsight, she realized how little she actually knew about their ultimate plans. Every time she pressed for details, she was met with vague assurances and fervent appeals to her faith.
And now they wanted her to address the city council? After the disaster that was their first confrontation? Maria's grip tightened on the telegram, and before she could stop herself, she crumpled the paper in her fist.
"Maria?" Nina's gentle voice broke through her storm of thoughts.
Maria glanced up to see the older woman watching her intently, her brow furrowed with concern. Taking a steadying breath, Maria forced a smile onto her face.
"It's nothing serious," she lied, waving the crumpled telegram as if it were of no importance. "Just...something about the city council. But I won't worry about it now. I came here to see you, and I'm staying for a few days."
Nina's worry didn't entirely fade, but she nodded, accepting Maria's answer for the moment. "Good," she said, placing a comforting hand on Maria's shoulder. "You've been running yourself ragged, haven't you? It's time you had some peace."
Maria smiled again, this time more genuinely. "Yes, Nina. That's exactly what I need."
As she joined Nina on the worktable, Maria completely put Frau Lulu and the city council away from her mind. For now.
⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻
Maria lay on the creaky bed of her old bedroom, staring at the ceiling with the rosary dangling between her fingers. The beads glided smoothly, one by one, as if the motion alone could grant her some clarity. Her gaze shifted to the telegram resting on the bedside table, a stark reminder of the obligations looming over her.
She reached for it, her eyes scanning the rest of the message. The words seemed to leap off the page this time, heavier with each read.
"In two days, everyone will gather in front of the city council to pray the rosary, and your presence is necessary."
Her lips tightened into a thin line as her eyes dropped to the signature at the bottom.
"Frau Lulu Valenta, Alliance Against Acts of Evil."
Maria's fingers curled around the telegram, crumpling it again into a ball. She sat up slowly, her movements deliberate, as though the weight of the decision she was making pressed down on her every action. The rosary slipped into her pocket as she stood, her steps guiding her outside.
The evening air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine from the surrounding trees. She made her way to the firewood pile, where a small fire crackled in the stone pit. The warmth licked at her face as she approached, holding the crumpled telegram in her hand.
Her grip loosened, and she carefully tossed the letter into the flames. The paper ignited instantly, curling at the edges as the fire consumed it. She stood there, watching the embers dance and the words fade into ash, her expression unreadable.
As soon as Maria stepped back into her bedroom, an odd sense of clarity washed over her like a sudden cold breeze. She froze in place, her hand lingering on the doorframe, a quiet question escaping her lips.
"Why didn't I want to pray the rosary?" she whispered, almost as if asking herself aloud would summon an answer.
Her eyes darted to the cross hanging on the wall across from her bed. Slowly, she walked toward it, the floor creaking faintly beneath her steps.
Standing beneath the cross, she looked up at it, her hands clasping together in front of her. "I know I need to go," she said, her voice trembling as if confessing something deeply personal. "But... it's like my body won't listen to me."
Her words hung in the air, unanswered. The silence was deafening, yet it seemed to press down on her more than any scolding voice could. Maria's shoulders slumped as she turned and sat on the edge of her bed.
Her hands fidgeted, twisting the hem of her dress, but her mind felt still—too still. She stared at the floor, unsure of what to do, unsure of what was stopping her, and unsure of what lay ahead.
⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻
The stadium buzzed with energy as eager fans filled the stands, their excited chatter building into a crescendo of anticipation for the Austrian Cup finals. Georg sat with a small group of friends, his seat offering a clear view of the field. The vibrant sea of team colors and flags waved in every direction, a testament to the rivalry that had brought so many people together.
Georg glanced at his watch, his brow furrowed slightly. He scanned the crowd, his eyes flitting over the rows of people still filing into their seats. It wasn't long before he spotted the man he was waiting for.
Max appeared, weaving through the throng, bumping into shoulders and muttering apologies as he made his way to Georg's side. "Finally," Georg muttered as Max collapsed into the seat beside him, out of breath.
"Too many people," Max gasped, fanning himself with his hand. "But what do you expect? It's the finals!"
Georg smirked. "And what kept you so long? You've missed all the warmups."
Max grinned mischievously. "You won't believe it. On my way here, I passed the city council building. Guess who I saw?"
Georg raised a brow but said nothing, waiting for the answer he could already guess.
"The Alliance!" Max exclaimed, leaning in conspiratorially. "Frau Lulu, Frau Liutberga, the whole crew—standing outside the council, looking absolutely furious. Turns out the council members aren't even in session today. They're all here, watching the game."
Georg let out a laugh, the image of the indignant women standing outside an empty building amusing him. "Serves them right," he said, shaking his head.
Max chuckled along, the two men sharing a moment of levity as the pre-game show began on the field, the excitement in the stadium reaching a fever pitch.
As the crowd erupted into cheers for the players entering the field, Georg leaned back in his seat, trying to shake off his curiosity. Yet the thought lingered, gnawing at the edge of his mind. He glanced at Max, who was still grinning from his recount of the Alliance's misstep, and debated whether to ask the question that had formed in his head.
Max, always eager to needle others, would undoubtedly notice Georg's interest. Still, Georg couldn't stop himself. "So," he began, keeping his tone casual, "did you happen to see... Maria with them?"
Max's grin fell, raising a brow as if weighing the implications of the question. "Maria?" he repeated, his voice stretching the name teasingly.
Georg frowned slightly. "Yes, Maria," he said, trying not to let his interest show. "She's part of their group, isn't she?"
Max tilted his head, clearly amused. "Last I heard, yes," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "But now that you mention it... no, I didn't see her with them today. Just Frau Lulu and the others. Why do you ask?"
Georg shrugged quickly, masking his reaction. "No reason. Just curious."
Max squinted at him, clearly not convinced, but didn't press further. "Well, if she wasn't with them, maybe she's finally come to her senses. That Alliance crowd—too full of themselves, always convinced they're righteous," he said with a dismissive wave.
Georg nodded vaguely, pretending to focus on the game as the players began to take their positions. But inwardly, he was surprised. Why hadn't Maria joined the Alliance's mission? She'd seemed so determined, so resolute.
The thought lingered as the match began, the roar of the crowd a backdrop to the quiet curiosity building in his mind.